


When You Nut in Space It Push You Backwards

by startingatmidnight



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Buy the cancellation of this fic permanently. For $8000 a month I will stop., F/M, Fuckruary 2021 (Lucifer TV), I would tender an apology to the McElroy brothers but they've done worse, Masturbation, Masturbation in Outer Space, Other, Outer Space, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startingatmidnight/pseuds/startingatmidnight
Summary: Bets are made. The boundaries of science are redefined. One man wonders if his sex drive really can defeat outer space.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 28
Kudos: 85





	When You Nut in Space It Push You Backwards

**Author's Note:**

> AO3 won a Hugo Award and I am going to single handedly get it taken away

At a certain point in Lucifer’s day, just before he ascends past the Kármán line and unzips his frozen suit trousers, he wonders if he’s experiencing a new low in the annals of his very long life.

This point comes when he takes out his phone and finds that the battery has managed to explode in his pocket. He’s still in high Earth orbit at this point, so with temperatures a balmy 50 Fahrenheit he can’t understand why his personal spank bank has decided to brick itself. A quick spate of cursing at it and throwing it into low-Earth orbit reminds him that phones generate temperature and that heat requires a heat sink. The lack of convective air current to cool the battery down doomed it the moment he started to climb out of Earth’s atmosphere.

Lucifer sighs after the phone as it spirals downwards and burns up on re-entry. He climbs a few hundred kilometers higher until temperatures drop to something miserable and frozen. Sixty-four glorious gigabytes of his best material, lost for the sake of a twenty dollar wager. He’s not even wanked off yet.

Chloe had told him not to do this. She’d said nobody would believe him anyway, so there wasn’t any point in taking the bet. Lucifer had demurred, on the principle that _she’ll_ know he did it, and Chloe had made clear that she would not be in _any way_ impressed by it. He’d intended to amuse himself by sending her a picture and seeing what she’d text back, but it appears that’s moot.

He climbs past the legal definition of outer space, unzips, and then frowns downwards. The Southern hemisphere of Earth spirals past him, extending almost to the edge of his view on either side. He considers the orbit he’s travelling in. Arguably, he could go where no man has gone before right _here_ , and consider the terms of the wager complete. _Arguably_. 

Unfortunately, he happens to be a Devil of his word.

Lucifer zips his trousers back up and turns away from Earth, beating his wings against the plasma of the heliosphere. 

Should he ever have to answer for this confusing development in his life, he would say that it’s the fault of one Miss Ella Lopez. He’s only acting as a test case: a proof of concept, if you will, to settle an argument. If that argument had lasted for a full hour of the work day and he had gleefully encouraged every second of it, that’s of no consequence. “Miss Lopez started it” is his ironclad defense.

After all, he wouldn’t have started any discussion with the phrase―

* * *

“When you nut in space, it push you backwards!”

Ella only just finishes the sentence before folding in half and squealing with laughter. 

Lucifer blinks. “Excuse me?”

Dan shakes his head. “ _That_ made you laugh for five minutes straight?”

Ella nods frantically from her curled-up position on the back seat. She manages to drop her headphones under the seat with the ferocity of her laughter. 

“It’s so _good_ ,” she says, wiping a tear from her eye. “It just ticks all the comedy boxes.”

Lucifer turns back to look at Ella properly. “Just to check, Miss Lopez, did you suffer from extreme head trauma at any point in your childhood?” 

It must be a blue moon today, because neither Chloe nor Daniel immediately tell him off. Instead, Chloe tips her head to the rear view mirror in confusion.

“I don’t get it, what part’s the _joke_?”

Ella waves her hands in the air. “All of it! The way it’s said stupid, the way it’s like, not scientifically possible in any way but it’s still _trying_ to be scientific, it’s just…” She taps her heart in respect. “This podcast gets me, what can I say? ‘When you nut it push you backwards’.” She snorts. “Genius.”

Dan sighs. “Okay, can we give you a list of Netflix specials or something? Because that’s―”

Lucifer interjects. “What part isn’t scientifically possible?”

Chloe looks at him sideways. Dan stares at him. Lucifer supposes the blue moon must have turned in for the day.

Dan narrows his eyes. “You’re kidding us, right?”

“I don’t see why, in the vacuum of space, you _wouldn’t_ go back a bit after bashing the bishop.”

Chloe taps the file on Lucifer’s lap. “Please just look at the tox report.”

“Before lunch? I think not. Honestly, what’s not scientific about it?”

“Uh,” Dan says, “The part where if you were outside of a spaceship, you’d _die_?”

Lucifer scoffs. “ _You_ would.”

“ _Everyone_ would, it’s _space_.”

“Lucifer _Morningstar_ ,” he stresses. “I have a fair bit of experience in space, I’ll have you know. _Stars_ , for one. That was me.”

Chloe blinks over at him. “Wait, really?”

Ella pulls out her phone and types something in. “I didn’t know that was part of the whole Lucifer thing! Your research is _amazing_ , you’re so immersed in your role!”

“I’m _not_ a bloody― my _point_ is, you lot are squishy and frail, but that doesn’t mean a nice wank in outer space is scientifically impossible for _everyone_.”

“Still kinda is, though,” Ella says thoughtfully.

“I can _guarantee_ you that if I so chose, I could do it right now.”

“Nope,” Ella says. “Leaving aside, like, absolute zero, no oxygen and explosive decompression―”

“―Mortal problems―”

“―Blood pressure gets way low for astronauts anyway ‘cause of the no gravity, so it’s probably not possible to get it up.”

Lucifer’s jaw drops. “ _beg your pardon_?”

“What?”

“I have _never_ had performance issues.” He shakes his head. “I simply cannot believe you’d accuse me of such a thing.”

“Sorry, dude, it’s science!”

“It’s an insult to my prowess,” he sniffs. Dan rolls his eyes.

“Sure, Lucifer, you have space sex superpowers.”

“Not _superpowers_ , Daniel, just a superior celestial biology.”

“Whatever, man.”

“ _In any case_ , my innate superiority aside, if I wanked off in space I’d bet I _would_ go backwards. So there’s nothing inaccurate about it.”

“Yeah,” Ella says, “But I’m saying that I’d bet that you _couldn’t_ ‘cause of the blood pressure.”

Chloe’s hands migrate to the top of the steering wheel. “I asked you guys to drive with me _specifically_ to discuss the tox report.”

“Just a _moment_ , Detective, we’ve nearly settled this. So, Miss Lopez, you’re willing to _bet_ that if I were to masturbate in space, I _couldn’t_ make myself go backwards with the strength of my own ejaculation?”

“For a murder, in case you all forgot,” Chloe says. “We’re trying to solve a homicide. You know, the job that we have.”

Lucifer gestures expansively at Ella. “How much?”

“Uh, what?”

“How much will you bet?”

Ella laughs. “Dude, if you can get Elon Musk to take you to space then let you out to try and jerk it before you die, I’ll give you my _wallet_.”

Lucifer leans over and snags Ella’s jacket from the back seat, rifling through it until he finds her wallet. There’s twenty dollars, a driving license, and a discount card for a frozen yogurt shop.

“Deal,” he grins, putting it back. He pulls out his billfold and waves it in the air. Ella’s eyes follow the cash. “Yours if I can’t go to infinity and beyond.”

“What?”

“We are at the Five Guys,” Chloe says pointedly as she pulls over. “If you keep talking about space sex in the Five Guys, you’re all walking back to the precinct.”

“I’m planning on making an _explosive re-entry_ to the precinct, actually.”

“I should have left you at the crime scene.”

As they grab varying orders in greasy paper bags, Lucifer considers his time frame. He has a dinner reservation with Chloe tonight, and a murder this boring is bound to take the rest of the day, so his only available time is this lunch break.

“Right, then,” he concludes, sliding his food over to Chloe. “I’m off to wank in space.”

Ella chokes on a fry. Dan switches between thumping her on the back and staring at Lucifer incredulously.

“Is that code for something?”

“‘Course not,” he says. “I have to settle this bet. And I have to admit, I’m curious. How far back _can_ I go? I’d imagine I could give it some torque if I really went for it.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe prompts, her voice pitching upwards, “Can I talk to you over there?”

She leads him to a corner of the Five Guys, still clutching a cup of fries in her hand. Her face has gone red.

“Okay,” Chloe says, “I have two questions.”

“Ask away.”

“First, _you made the stars_?”

“Oh! Yes, in a fashion. You see―”

“―Okay, no, wait,” Chloe says, shaking her head. “Save it for date night, don’t ruin it for me with― the― are you _really_ about to―”

Lucifer grins. “Explore new frontiers?”

Chloe’s embarrassment transforms into reluctant, poorly concealed mirth. It’s by far his favourite of her expressions: she only ever does it for him. 

“No.”

“Go supernova?”

“Stop it.”

“Oh, come on,” Lucifer says, leaning in as Chloe loses the fight against smiling, “No final words for your brave astronaut?”

“No,” Chloe insists as her lips twitch. “You’re disgusting.”

“Going where no man has gone before―”

“― _Ew_ ―”

“―In the interest of scientific discovery?”

“I just can’t believe you’re doing this on a lunch break.”

“I imagined you would prefer it to my interrupting date night.”

Chloe nods slowly and deliberately. “Yeah, Lucifer, if you flew up to space to masturbate on date night, I would _kind_ of not be happy about it.”

Lucifer smiles. “Darling, you _know_ I would invite you if you wouldn’t suffer from explosive decompression.”

Chloe groans. “Just go.”

Lucifer puts a hand on his heart as he walks backwards to the door, singing. “I don’t wanna close my eyes… I don’t wanna fall asle― hey, steady on! This is bespoke!”

Chloe continues to throw fries at him until he leaves.


End file.
